Late Night Snack
by Anonymississippi
Summary: Amy gets some ice cream. And Sheldon's there, too. Just a short drabble of the Shamy.


_**First BBT fic, a small plot bunny I had in my head... And I had to get it down after seeing the Shamy-heavy sneak peek for 6x10. I don't own anything. Thank CBS, Lorre, and Prady.**_

Amy shuffled slowly into the kitchen, high socks barely muffling her heavy tread. She pushed her bed hair out of her eyes as she opened the freezer, contemplating her midnight snack.

"Amy, what are you doing?" Sheldon asked, emerging from the bedroom.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"You absence caused a minor disruption during a preliminary REM stage. Although, the real shock was waking up in unfamiliar surroundings; I experienced labored breathing and slight tachycardia."

"But you're alright now?" she said, removing a tub of Chunky Monkey, relabeled Chunky Ricky, and set it on the counter.

"I calmed myself with patterned breathing exercises I learned at zombie survival training."

"Is that a thing?"

"I should hope so. Or that $150 would have been ill spent, and my laminated certificate of completion rendered null and void."

She gave him a slight grin, removing a spoon from a drawer.

He shuffled nervously toward the bar.

"I rolled over and you weren't there," he said sheepishly.

"I was grabbing a snack…" she gestured.

"Do you frequently partake in late night, to use the common vernacular, 'munchie sessions'?" he asked, supplying air quotes.

"No, not really. I woke up famished, my energy-level having been significantly depleted. To use the _Texan_ vernacular, I had a 'hankerin' to satisfy my sweet tooth."

"That was rudimentary Texan at best."

"Do you want some?" she asked, pulling out another spoon.

"I think not. My digestive schedule would not thank me for such a dairy-heavy disruption, and after midnight no less."

"Come on! It's anything can happen Thursday. And anything _did_ happen… twice." She looked at him over the top of her glasses, carelessly waving an extra bowl and spoon.

"I'll just have a glass of water, thank you," Sheldon said, moving past her to her cabinets. "What are you wearing?"

"Hmm?" Amy said, spoon in mouth. She looked down at her chest, then quickly crossed her arms over her torso. "Nothing," she managed, extracting the spoon to form syllables.

"That's my Green Lantern shirt! I want it back!"

"Now?"

"Yes, it's mine."

She eyed him carefully then reached for the hem, hanging just above mid-thigh. "Okay…"

"You know what, never mind!" Sheldon said, flustered. "I'll get it later."

"It was dark. I just grabbed the nearest thing to me and threw it on. I didn't want to turn on the light and wake you."

"I thank you for your consideration. Regardless, your efforts were futile, and now you're subjecting yourself to stringent guidelines concerning washing my garments. I'll not have you 'just throw it in' with your load, as you've mentioned before."

"Wearing this, after midnight, and getting a snack after… well, _after_," she replaced the lid of her ice cream and rinsed her spoon, putting it in the dishwasher. "I think it's worth adhering to a few of your guidelines." She leaned on the counter beside him, cotton-clad arms nearly brushing his bare ones.

"Suit yourself," he said, sipping his water.

"Sheldon," she said, not looking up at him. "Are you happy?"

"I'm not unhappy."

"That's an evasive answer."

Sheldon placed his glass back on the counter. "Currently, there is a noticeable absence of anything related to trains, sci-fi memorabilia, comic entertainment, virtual gaming, mathematic formulas or Stephen Hawking."

Amy nodded.

"I find however… " Sheldon said, slowly meeting Amy's eyes. "Despite the absence of most things that have made me happy in the past, that I am, in fact, relaxed, content, and even… joyful. It's odd, but yes, I would classify this emotion as happy," he finished lightly.

Amy pushed no further, and retreated to the darkness of her bedroom. She paused at the door, looking over her shoulder. "I'm happy, too." She stepped inside.

Sheldon took the time to rinse his glass and place it in the washer. After another quick check of all the emergency exits, he followed Amy into her room.

_**Hate it? Loved it? Apathetic? Would love to here from you... I won't write more unless I can keep them in character. And these two are difficult. I would expect no less from Shamy.**_


End file.
